Soothsay
by TheNewHope
Summary: [Grace & Joan post "Silence"] "I don't belong here." Joan whispers and Grace can tell she's been crying.


**title:** Soothsay  
**codes:** 1,189 words, Grace Joan (God), post "Silence", possibly an AU  
**disclaimer:** I'm not Biblically Queer enough to own them.  
**summary:** "I don't belong here." Joan whispers and Grace can tell she's been crying. "I'm not crazy."  
**notes:** for naushika as part of the joaflashfic. I am beyond late with this (we're talking eight months here). my only excuse is that, no matter what I did, everyone in Arcadia refused to talk to me. until, that is, last night, when they decided it would be fun if I dreamt about them. I hope you can forgive me the long wait (and the wacky fun religious imagery). and that you like it. thanks and porn go to joran for the beta.

* * *

The sky is heavy with winter rain clouds. Grace squints against the brightness.

Grace is standing in a grassy field, her bare feet dug into the cool soil. In front of her there is a hill with a lone tree crowning it. She can see Joan, resting against the tree's large trunk. Joan smiles at her, and Grace is pulled up the hill.

There is a man standing behind the tree. Grace tries to focus on him, or is it a her, but the air around him seems to shift, so that all she can see are shadows.

This is just a dream, she thinks.

Joan is sitting cross-legged on the ground. The air is sweet with the smell of the purple and white flowers that are woven through her hair. In her lap there is a coiled snake.

"Hey Grace" Joan says, still smiling. Grace stops a few feet away and stays silent, not sure what to do.

"Here" Joan reaches into her hair, pulling out a large flower and holding it out to Grace. "this is for you."

Grace reaches forward to take it, but jumps back as the snake moves, uncoiling and watching her with cold eyes.

"It's okay." Joan says, still holding the flower out to Grace. The snake lunges, it's fangs sinking into her arm. Joan keeps smiling.

Grace hopes this is just a dream.

* * *

It's 2:17 a.m. and Grace is asleep. Or she was, until the hollow ringing of her cell woke her up. She doesn't bother opening her eyes, just fumbles for it on her bedside table and flips it open.

"Do you know what time it is" she growls into the phone.

"Grace" the voice on the other end is small and shaky. It makes Grace sit up and pull in a short breath of air.

"Joan" she asks. Then"What's wrong"

"I don't belong here." Joan whispers and Grace can tell she's been crying. "I'm not crazy."

"I know" Grace says. Doesn't say "You're just sick."

"I mean, these kids, they're real subdefectives. There's this one boy who eats metal. Like, he'll chew anything he can get his hands on." Joan seems to catch herself and stops. Draws in a breath and switches gears. "And I just... I miss him."

The switch catches Grace off guard and it takes a moment for her to guess at Joan's meaning. "Who, Adam" but even as she asks, Grace isn't sure that he's who Joan is talking about.

"What? No. God..." Joan pulls in a shuttering breath and backtracks"I mean, yes. We haven't talked since the hospital, and."

"The little dumbass." Grace has half a mind to kick Adam the next time she sees him.

"No, it's not his fault." Grace can't imagine how not supporting his girlfriend would be anything other than Adam's fault, but Joan continues"He just freaked when I got sick, when he found out that I'd been... about the hallucinations." She pauses and sucks in a shuttering breath, then repeats"It's not his fault." like she's trying to convince herself it's true.

"If you say so" Grace isn't convinced.

"Yeah" there's a noise from the other end of the line, like a door banging closed, and Joan switches tracks again. "I'm sorry. I should let you get back to sleep."

"It's okay" she says, not sure she wants Joan to hang up.

"No, I should go." then, before Grace can say anything"Goodnight." and the phone goes silent, leaving Grace sitting alone in her dark bedroom.

A warm breeze blows through her open window. The air smells like lilacs and rain. Grace shivers.

* * *

Grace remembers Mrs. G saying something about hallucinations at the hospital, about how Lyme disease could make people see things that aren't there. She sets out for the library, not really sure what she's looking for. Whatever it is, she doesn't find it in the thick medical texts that line the library's back wall, so she decides to wander through the quiet shelves.

Which is how she winds up in the history section, staring blankly at a biography of Joan of Arc.

"I think you'll like this one better." The old man standing next to her is wearing a white kippot and Grace thinks that she knows him from somewhere. From her father's temple, maybe. He's holding a book out to her i Prophesy and Soothsaying in the Old Testament /i .

"Man, do you guys have Jewdar or what" Snark has always been her default when she's uncomfortable.

"I'm a friend of your father's, Grace." he says it like it explains how he knows her, and maybe it does. He's still holding the book out to her, smiling. There's something about the way he smiles at her that makes her take the book. His fingers are warm when they brush against hers.

"Thanks" she says and looks down at the tree on its cover. When she looks up again she is alone in the aisle.

* * *

It's 3:42 p.m. and Grace is sitting on a bench in the park outside the library. This time, when the phone rings, Grace knows it's Joan.

"What's up, Girardi"

"Nothing really. I just..." Joan pauses and Grace finds herself holding her breath. "I just wanted to thank you for last night. For putting up with my little freak out."

Grace has never been good at conversations like this and she's not really sure what she's supposed to say, so she just stays silent. Joan understands, or maybe she doesn't even notice, and keeps talking.

"And to say that, what I said about seeing... about what I saw when I was sick? I didn't... I don't believe them. I mean, I know it was just the Lyme disease talking, you know" there's something desperate in Joan's voice, like she's afraid of what Grace is going to say. Like she's afraid that Grace won't believe her. Or maybe that she will.

The silence stretches over the bad cell connection and Grace can feel Joan waiting for her to say something. She lets her hand rest against the glossy cover of the book that's hidden under an old issue of i Rolling Stone /i in her bag. "Yeah, I know." she says finally, even though she really doesn't.

"Good" Joan says, voice low so that Grace isn't sure she even spoke. Then, with forced cheer"Any way, I should go. I've got arts and crafts before dinner."

"Dude, arts and crafts" Grace can't help but smile at the image of Joan gluing macaroni to bright pieces of paper that pops into her head. She lets Joan shift topics without comment.

"Yeah, We're making birdhouses out of popsicle sticks." Joan laughs. Then, almost as an after thought"It's pretty lame."

"Any way, have a good day out there in the real world." Joan seems rushed now, and Grace can hear shouting in the background. "Bye." she's getting used to Joan's abrupt exits.

Grace watches a little girl with pigtails bounce a big ball against the grass. The book is still cold under her fingers. "Be good, Joan." she says into the summer air and closes her phone.

_fin_


End file.
